


Parallel

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: American-Japanese OC, Cultural Differences, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Protective Karasuno Volleyball Club, Rating May Change, Team Dynamics, found family trope bc i'm soft af like that, no pairing in mind yet but there are so many volleyball boys to choose from..., this is basically SI, tropey as hell? probably. but also fun as hell? definitely.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jude Wyatt's life was turned upside down when her Japanese-American family decided to move back to Japan on a whim. An outcast, Jude never expected to get tangled in the lives of Karasuno High's boys' volleyball team, and she certainly never expected to find a new family among a flock of crows...
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21
Collections: oc self insertSI





	1. East Meets West

**Author's Note:**

> Listen.
> 
> This is not supposed to be a serious fic. It's just for laughs and fun and to soothe my need for a self-indulgent fic because I love these volleyball bois with all of my heart. 
> 
> I will do my best to keep things accurate, but please be aware that I am American and have only a faint grasp of Japanese culture. There WILL be mistakes but I will do my best to correct them. That being said, if I do get something wrong, please let me know in a POLITE and CIVIL manner. Attacks or flames will probably be blocked or removed. Let's be mature here, okay? :) 
> 
> IMPORTANT: All dialogue is in Japanese. Thoughts and English will be in italics. 
> 
> The first few chapters will mostly be introductory, but I promise there's a plot here if you squint lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

Karasuno High School.

My new hell.

This time last year, I hadn’t believed Mom and Dad when they’d told us we were moving to Japan from the States. I mean, moving _states_ I could see. But moving to an entirely new _country_? I thought they’d been full of shit.

I guess it made sense in a way. Baba had been born and raised in Japan until she’d had my mom’s older siblings. Once her first husband passed away in the sixties, she’d come to the U.S. with her children, remarried, and had my mom. Mom always said Baba missed Japan and her first home, so after Grandpa Rick’s lung cancer had claimed him two years ago, I understood Baba wanting to go home.

I just never thought I’d be going with her.

But Mom and Dad had thought it best, especially since Baba couldn’t exactly live by herself anymore. So, here I was. Halfway around the world from everything I’ve ever known, a barely functioning American teenager with only passing decency at Japanese, and standing outside my new high school like an idiot because I had no idea where to go.

Like I said. My new hell.

I checked the time on my phone. 8:25. I had ten minutes to find my homeroom. Shit.

I hiked my backpack higher on my shoulders and followed the trickling stream of students through the front doors. The school was nice, with polished floors and tidy hallways, but it felt incredibly stuffy. Or maybe it was because this school uniform had several layers to it.

God. A _school uniform_. I’d never worn a uniform to school in my _life_. My go-to school outfit had consistently been a sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers for as long as I could remember, and now I had to wear a _skirt_ and _stockings_. My shoes were a shiny black heeled-loafer thing, and I hadn’t broken them in yet. I could already feel the blisters forming.

I pulled a slip of paper out of my front blazer pocket. Class 2-1 was scribbled at the top in English. That’s what I was looking for. I glanced up at the signs decorating the halls. Mom had gotten me a tutor the year prior to our move, but I was still helplessly lost when it came to Japanese writing. It was a miracle I’d even placed into a school.

I stopped in the hallway, debating between two signs. I’d always gotten the symbols for one and two mixed up, and now two signs looked eerily similar. One was farther behind me, while one stood to my immediate right. One of them was 2-1. One of them…

“Excuse me. Do you need help?”

I turned. A girl my age stood behind me, her short brown hair clipped back from her smiling face. She gestured to the paper in my hands.

“Oh, yeah.” I handed her the paper. “I’m supposed to be in Class 2-1 if you know where that is?”

I stumbled over the words, my accent flubbing the pronunciation entirely. Mom and Baba had tried their best to teach me since I was little, but there was no escaping an American accent. I probably sounded like a hick.

“2-1?” the girl repeated. She pointed to herself with a smile. “You’re with me! Follow me.”

She led me to the classroom behind us. I made a mental note to remember where it was, exceedingly grateful that this girl had helped me, or else I definitely would’ve walked into the classroom for 1-2 instead.

“I’m Mizushima Yuna,” the girl said as we walked together. She tilted her head. “You’re American?”

I nodded. “My family just moved here. My grandmother is originally from Misato. We moved here because of her.”

She brightened. “My own grandmother is from there!” She then smiled, sheepish. “I’m sorry, I went right ahead with talking, didn’t I? I didn’t ask your name.”

“Jude Wyatt.”

We came to a stop outside of the open classroom door. Students were already seated at their desks, but they chatted with each other happily. Even though I was only one day late to the start of the schoolyear, I felt the gap between myself and them widen.

The girl smiled and handed back my paper. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to Karasuno.”

She waved as she went to take her seat. The teacher—a man in his forties—noticed me hovering and bustled over. I recognized him from my meeting with the principal and vice-principal the week before when I came with my parents to finalize my transition, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name.

“Ah, Jude!” he greeted excitedly. He pronounced my name like _Judo_ , but I secretly loved it. ‘Jude’ made me sound like some housewife from the fifties. “Welcome!”

“Sensei.” I smiled and nodded nervously. His enthusiastic greeting had garnered the attention of the classroom, and the conversations died down. “Hello.”

He turned to the class at large and gestured to me. “Class! Please welcome our new student. She’s from…California?” At my nod, he grinned. “In the United States.” To me, he said, “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

I’d rather die, but I nodded and waved awkwardly. “Jude Wyatt. You can call me Jude or Wyatt, though, I’ll respond to either.”

“Hello,” the class intoned.

My teacher pointed me toward a desk in the back. “Have a seat. This is homeroom, but in a few minutes, you’ll be released for your first class.”

I took my seat next to a lean boy with a shaved head. His black shirt was unbuttoned carelessly at the neck, revealing the white button-down he wore underneath. He stared at me unabashedly as I set my backpack on the floor, curiosity flooding his gaze.

I didn’t catch his eye, instead keeping my gaze on my desk. I wasn’t all that great with people to begin with, but there was a certain look to the boy that reminded me of the delinquent kids at my old high school, who smoked behind the gym and had juvie records as long as my arm.

No. I’d get through this schoolyear by keeping my head down and minding my business. I was a nobody here, and it was better if I stayed that way. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of my freshman year.

Ignoring the boy, I got out my notebook and pen and braced myself for a long day.

* * *

The morning passed in a haze of confusion and anxiety. I could barely keep up with the lessons, only managing to copy down what was written on the blackboard and hopefully get my mom to help me translate when I got home. The only lesson that didn’t give me an ulcer was English, naturally, but I could already tell that class was going to be a nightmare from all the calculating stares I received, since I was obviously the only native speaker.

After homeroom, Mizushima had bestowed kindness upon me again by saving me a seat in our morning lessons. She wasn’t very talkative, which I appreciated. I didn’t really see the boy from homeroom again. He always chose a seat at the back of the class, several rows behind where Mizushima and I would sit. I was grateful for that, too; the dude had a manic sort of energy about him that reminded me of a lit firecracker about to burst. Definitely not the sort of calming presence I needed on a day when my nerves were already heightened to the max.

When the bell rang, ending the English lesson, Mizushima stood up and stretched.

“Finally,” she said. “Lunch.”

I stood with her and clutched my backpack. “Where’s the cafeteria?”

She stared. “Oh, we don’t have one of those. We just eat in our homerooms.”

I was torn between relief and confusion. Relief that I wouldn’t have to deal with a hundred or more students and the torture of finding a seat, but confused because they _didn’t_ eat in a cafeteria.

“Oh,” I said dumbly. “Right.”

We took out our lunches and found seats next to the windows. Someone had opened them, and a nice breeze roamed through the classroom as everyone ate and conversed. I picked at my sandwich—the classic peanut butter and jelly that Dad had insisted on making me—but I wasn’t very hungry. I rummaged through my backpack, hoping for a drink instead, but sighed when I realized I hadn’t packed one.

“There’s a vending machine outside for drinks,” Mizushima said, pointing with her chopsticks out the window that overlooked a grassy area between the school and what looked like a gymnasium. “I can show you.”

“That’s okay,” I said, grabbing my wallet. “I’ll find it. Thanks, though.”

I ventured out into the hallway. Students milled around, talking and laughing while on their break. I received a few looks as I passed, but not many. From the peripheral, I blended in with my uniform and short black hair, but if anyone looked closer, they’d notice the distinct features I’d inherited from my dad that singled me out as—what I called— _white as fuck_.

Still, I kept my head down as I walked outside, searching for this elusive vending machine. I knew it was a long shot to hope for a Coca-Cola or Dr. Pepper, but even a water would be nice in this weather. There was hardly any air conditioning, and though I’d removed my blazer and rolled up the sleeves of my white shirt, the cream sweater and mauve tie I had to wear as part of the uniform were still suffocating.

I walked along the edges of the grassy area I’d seen from the classroom windows, finally spotting a vending machine in the far corner. A couple people were using it, but when I approached, they took their drinks and left. Two boys stood in the shade of the school building when I passed, practicing with a volleyball, their jackets and bags discarded on the ground as they passed the ball to each other. One was taller, with silver hair, and he seemed to be encouraging the short, orange-haired boy who kept messing up his receives.

I only watched them briefly before reaching the vending machine. I studied my options, my eyes snagging on something in particular. Milk, but in a container that resembled a juice box. Huh. Ain’t that something.

Why not? I pressed the button for a milk, fed the machine some coins, and stooped to grab it. It even came with a little straw, just like the apple juice I used to drink back home when I was a kid. I was weirdly giddy over this fact as I punched the straw into the box and took a sip. I’m not sure what I expected, but it was definitely just milk.

I stuck the straw between my lips as I headed back to the building. I took out my phone and scrolled, pausing on a friend’s social media update before someone shouted.

I looked up just as a ball smacked me right in the face. I inhaled my milk sharply in surprise and started spluttering, stumbling back and dropping my phone in the process.

“ _Shit_ ,” I gasped, my eyes watering. “Ow…”

“Hinata!” the silver-haired boy chided, rushing over to me. “I told you not to try and swing at the ball!”

The short boy followed his friend, a look of dismay on his face when he saw me clutching my nose, dazed.

“I’m so sorry!” he cried, bowing so profusely I thought his orange head would pop right off. “Please forgive me! I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine,” I said as the silver-haired boy grabbed up the volleyball from where it had rolled into the grass. “Don’t apologize; it was an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” the silver-haired boy said. His eyes darted to the hand holding my nose. At least I’d stopped spewing milk by that point. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” I sniffed. My nose throbbed, but there was no blood. I stooped and picked up my phone. Luckily, my case had protected it from the fall. I tried for an awkward smile. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Shit happens.”

The shorter boy tilted his head, studying me with large eyes. “Where are you from?”

“California.” I edged back toward the building, not wanting to be bombarded with questions again. “I just moved here.”

“Is your family Japanese?” the silver-haired boy asked.

“My grandmother is.” I took another step. “My mom’s half, and my dad’s American. So, I’m only a quarter.”

The orange-haired boy opened his mouth, but his friend nudged him. “Come on, Hinata. We should get back to practicing. The three-on-three isn’t that far off.”

Hinata nodded, his curiosity instantly replaced with determination. It almost made me laugh out loud, like watching a really cute and intense tangerine.

The other boy turned to me again. “I’m Sugawara Koshi, by the way. This is Hinata Shoyo.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “Sorry again. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks. I’ll try to look out for any more stray balls.”

He laughed. I debated on how to shoehorn my own name in there, but the boys were already off, their focus once again on the volleyball. I lingered, uncertain, but I quickly turned and went back into the building to finish my lunch.

So far, flying under the radar was _not_ going in my favor.

* * *

**First day over. Managed not to fling my body down a flight of stairs, but it was close.**

The text sent with a little _whoosh_. My shoes scuffed the pavement as I walked home from the high school, exhausted and resigned that I would have to do it all over again tomorrow. I didn’t wait long before my phone dinged.

**Proud of u Judy!**

If it were anyone else, I would’ve hurled at the nickname, but Ava had been my friend for as long as I could remember. She’d always called me Judy. I don’t know how she put up with my sullen ass, being as cheerful as she was, but I loved her like a sister.

And I missed her like hell already.

My phone pinged again.

**Any cute boys? ;)**

I rolled my eyes, about to object before I remembered the silver-haired boy from lunch.

**I guess. Not really my type, but I met some nice ones.**

Ava texted again.

**Ugh, lucky! I’d kill for a foreign boy. All the ones here are—**

She put a barfing emoji. I chuckled to myself. Ava and her dramatics.

**Lol. I miss u.**

**Miss u more, Judy :( Text me tmrw?**

**Sure thing. Ily**

**Ily2 <3 **

I sighed and stuffed my phone in my bag again. I walked through the center of town just outside of Karasuno. It was a straight shot from the school to our new house, so I had no fears of getting lost. We lived in one of the smaller areas, too, and I’d insisted on walking to get used to the place. If I was stuck here, I might as well learn the ins and outs.

I kicked a rock out of my path. Japan was beautiful, no doubt, but I felt like an alien from a distant planet. In California, I’d lived in the Bay Area, and there was always something going on. The city I grew up in never slept. But here, in this quiet, rural, sleepy town, the lack of noise was disconcerting. The sidewalks weren’t clogged, the roads weren’t backed up with traffic, and even the air tasted crisper. It was a far cry from everything I’d ever known.

I found a bench and sat down, drawing out my phone once more. I didn’t want to go home just yet and face the barrage of questions from my family about my first day. I just needed some quiet for the first time today.

Putting in my earbuds, I switched on my music and opened Twitter. And scrolled. Opened Instagram. Scrolled.

I repeated this process for almost every app I owned. By the time I got bored and put up my phone, the sun had set, and the streetlights had flicked on. I stood and stretched, my back popping like bubble-wrap. A building was illuminated before me, drawing my eyes to it: Sakanoshita Market.

My stomach growled. Dinner was probably ready at home by now, but a pit stop couldn’t hurt. I crossed the street and went inside.

The store was brightly lit. Only one other person was in there, and it was the guy who looked like he ran the place, sitting behind the counter and smoking a cigarette, a manga in his hands. He glanced up when I entered and gave me a look that read _Hurry up and get out_. A trail of smoke left his mouth and curled in his spiky bleached hair, pushed back by a thin headband. I quickly went through the aisles, looking for anything to tide me over until I made it home.

I leafed through the snacks on display, baffled. Damn, could a girl get some Doritos around here? What _was_ this stuff?

I was distracted from my snack search when the store door opened again. Three teenage boys entered, and I started when I recognized two of them: Sugawara Koshi and the boy with the shaved head I shared classes with. They were with another boy I didn’t recognize, but he was tall and had a deep voice. A third-year, maybe. All three wore black tracksuits, and I remembered the volleyball Sugawara had earlier. It looked like he was on the volleyball team, then.

Sugawara turned his head and met my eyes. His face brightened in a smile and he waved to me, coming over. His friends followed, curious.

“Hi!” he said. “You’re the girl from earlier, right? I never got your name, sorry.”

“It’s Jude,” I said. I could feel my face growing warm under their stares. “Jude Wyatt.”

Sugawara turned to his friends. “This is the girl I was telling you about. The one Hinata hit in the face with the ball.” He looked back to me with a grimace. “I still am really sorry about that…”

I waved him off. “Don’t be.” Before he could answer, I waved to his friends. “Hi. I’m Jude.”

“Sawamura Daichi,” the tall boy said. His height and broad shoulders made him look intimidating, but his smile was kind. It put me at ease. He clapped the third boy on the shoulder. “And this is Tanaka Ryunosuke.”

I nodded. “I think we’re in the same class together. Nice to meet you.”

I held out my hand. _Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…_

He shook my hand, saying nothing. When I drew away, he stared at his hand like no one had ever touched it before.

“Sorry about him,” Sugawara whispered to me. “He doesn’t know how to act around girls.”

Tanaka’s face flared red. “Suga, you bastard! That’s not true!”

“Hey! Keep it down!” the store manager barked around his cigarette. “Hurry up and go home. Don’t you kids have dinner or something?”

I stared, but the three boys seemed completely unfazed like the man had yelled at them before. They ventured toward the back of the store.

“Meat bun?” Sugawara asked. “My treat.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said hastily.

“It’s the least I can do after today.” He smiled. He really was cute. He had a beauty mark just to the side of his left eye that made his soft features all the more adorable. I’d have to tell Ava about him. She’d go nuts. “C’mon.”

He led me after his friends. I shot him a wry look, amused despite myself.

“You weren’t the one who hit me with the ball,” I pointed out. “Your friend Hinata did.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. He’s a first-year prospect for the volleyball club. He has speed and jumping power, but everything else needs some work.” He picked out a couple of meat buns from the hot racks. “We’re holding a three-on-three game Saturday for the new first-years, so I’ve been helping Hinata prepare for that.”

“You’re on the team?” I pointed to his jacket, where ‘Karasuno High School’ was written out.

He nodded proudly. “Vice-captain and setter.” He gestured to his friends. “Daichi is our captain. He plays as one of our wing spikers, along with Tanaka.”

I didn’t know much about volleyball, but I knew the basics. I mean, I was from California. It was practically a crime not to know about volleyball there. “Sweet. Are you guys any good?”

They exchanged a look that made me think I asked the wrong question. I immediately backtracked. “Uh, I mean…”

“No, it’s fine,” Daichi said with a reassuring smile. “Karasuno once had a really good team. They went to Nationals and everything.” His smile faded a bit. “We haven’t been back in several years. But we have a lot of promising talent this year, so I’m hopeful for a shot at it.”

Tanaka snorted. “If they can get along…”

Sugawara punched Daichi’s bicep. “And we have our great captain to lead us!”

Daichi sputtered. “Er…”

“That sounds fun,” I said. “I wish you guys good luck this year.”

Daichi and Sugawara smiled. Tanaka looked ready to pass out at the praise. “Thank you!”

The boys paid for their meat buns. Sugawara paid for mine like he said and handed it to me once the manager had shooed us outside. I nearly swooned. Ava was going to love this.

“It was nice meeting you, Jude-san,” Daichi said. “I hope you’ll like Karasuno.”

“See you in class, Jude-san!” Tanaka called as he walked away with Daichi.

I waved before turning to Sugawara.

“Thank you,” I said, holding up my meat bun. It smelled delicious on the night air. “Will I see you at school?”

“You’ll probably see me around,” he said. “You’re a second-year, right, if you’re with Tanaka?” I nodded. “Ah. I’m a third-year, but it’s a small school. You’ll definitely see me.”

I nodded again before blurting out, “Uh, I’m sorry, by the way. In advance. If I mess up something,” I added to his confused frown. “I haven’t been here long, and I’m not very familiar with the culture or anything. So, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’ll get used to it. I imagine it’s quite different here, huh?”

_You have no idea_ , I wanted to say, but I nodded a third time. “Totally. Like, I don’t know what to call anybody. I’m scared I’ll get it wrong.”

He smiled and pointed to himself. “Call me Suga. That’s what everyone else calls me. One less name to worry about already, right?”

I could’ve cried. “Suga. Thank you. I’m just Jude.”

He settled his bag on his shoulder. “All right, just-Jude. I’ll see you at school. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Suga.”

We went in opposite directions. As soon as he was out of sight, I whipped out my phone again and started a text to Ava.

**Okay, you won’t BELIEVE what just happened…**


	2. The Agonizing Persistence of Being the New Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Remember dialogue in italics is English!*

I didn’t want to wake up and face my new life. I missed San Jose, the shitty car I’d had for only a few months after I got my driver’s license, my old room, and having a Starbucks on every street corner. I missed _home_.

But this was home now, whether I liked it or not.

I got ready for the day and changed into my dreaded uniform. Kicking an unpacked box out of my way, I stood in front of the full-length mirror propped haphazardly atop a pile of clothes and raked my fingers through my blunt black hair like a hairbrush. I’d had long hair in California, but I’d lobbed it off to my shoulders just before moving. If things were going to change, might as well change them all at once, right?

I made a face at my uniform before grabbing my things and heading downstairs. In the kitchen, Dad sat with Baba and my little brother, Colin. There was no sign of Damian, my older brother, but since he didn’t have to worry about school anymore, he’d taken to sleeping in until noon, the lucky bastard.

It was weird seeing our old dining table in this new place. We had the traditional chabudai table and zabuton in the front room, but we used the dining table and chairs whenever Baba’s joints were too stiff. Baba herself sat at the head of the dining table, her cane propped beside her and a steaming mug of tea before her.

I’d always thought Baba was beautiful. Even in her eighties, her hair was still long and thick, with only touches of silver streaked through the inky black. Her features were open and warm, the creases at the corners of her dark eyes and mouth speaking of a woman who loved to smile and laugh. This morning, her hair was pinned neatly at the nape of her neck, and she was dressed simply in slacks and a mint-green cardigan. It only made me realize how much happier she looked here; how much more at peace she seemed to be.

“Baba.” I stooped and kissed her cheek. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Jude-chan,” she said in her soft, high voice. “Did you sleep well?”

I nodded as I went to the coffee machine on the counter. I liked tea well enough, but I preferred coffee. My dad and I were addicts, and I honestly needed the caffeine to get me through another day of being the new kid.

“ _Where’s Mom_?” I asked Dad and Colin in English.

“ _Work_ ,” Dad replied. He already had his laptop in front of him for his own remote job, but he gave me a bright smile when I caught his eye. “ _She left early—good first impressions matter a lot here._ ”

I finished adding milk to my coffee and sat down across from Colin, who was shoveling cereal into his mouth at an alarming pace. He didn’t acknowledge me, but I wasn’t surprised. Ever since he hit thirteen, he’d become the living embodiment of teen angst. If it wasn’t a video game or food, he wanted nothing to do with it.

I kicked his shin lightly. “ _Hey, nerd_.”

He swallowed. “ _Hey, yourself_.”

Wow. He’d actually spoken to me. Impressive. “ _Ready for your second day_?”

He grunted. Well, it was good while it lasted.

Dad looked at me over the black rims of his square glasses. Sometimes it was eerie how similar we appeared. It was like someone had copied and pasted his features onto me. We both shared the same straight eyebrows, the same sloped nose, the same thin upper lip and full lower one. The only differences were that I inherited Mom’s black hair and brown eyes over his sandy-blond and light-blue.

“ _You aren’t going to eat breakfast_?” he asked, disapproving.

I sipped from my coffee and shrugged. “ _I’ll pick up something on my way_.”

He gestured to the refrigerator. “ _I packed you and Colin lunches again_.”

“ _Thank you_.”

Baba set down her teacup. “I went to bed early last night and missed you all at dinner. How were your first days, Jude-chan, Lin-kun?”

I smirked at Colin’s nickname as he looked at Baba, his full attention on her. Maybe I should amend my earlier statement: If it wasn’t a video game, food, or Baba, he wanted nothing to do with it.

As Colin conversed with Baba in Japanese, I turned to Dad. He tried to follow the conversation, but I could tell he was only gathering bits and pieces. He hadn’t been raised in a bilingual family, and though he’d been learning for Mom’s sake ever since they married, I knew he still struggled.

“ _They’re talking about Colin’s first day_ ,” I told him quietly over my coffee. “ _She asked about mine, too._ ”

“ _You said you had a good first day, right_?” he said.

I smiled and nodded when Baba turned to me. “Jude-chan?”

“It was fine,” I said. “I met some nice boys from the volleyball team.”

I left out how I’d met them only after being nailed in the face with a ball, but Dad perked up.

“ _Volleyball_?” he echoed. “ _That’s quite big here, isn’t it_?”

Baba nodded. “ _It’s become popular over the years, yes_.” She looked back at me. “ _I was talking to some people in town yesterday while you were in school. They actually mentioned the Karasuno boys’ team went to the Nationals several years back._ ”

“ _That’s what the boys were telling me_ ,” I said. “ _They’re hoping to go back_.”

“ _You planning on joining any sports, kiddo_?” Dad asked me.

I gave him an unimpressed look. “ _That’s a joke, right_? _I can barely even walk without tripping_.”

Dad chuckled. “ _I mean…true_.”

I downed the rest of my coffee and stood.

“ _You ready_?” I asked Colin.

He nodded, getting up to take care of his dishes. I followed him and quickly washed the mug I’d been using before we grabbed our things.

“ _Bye, Dad, bye, Baba_ ,” Colin said as he left through the front door.

I hugged Dad and kissed Baba’s other cheek, saying “ _Love you both_ ,” before following my brother outside.

It was another clear, cloudless day, and the air was cool and moist. We’d moved to a valley area, just on the eastern side of the Ou Mountains, and the peaks stood tall and purple in the early morning light. I was amazed every time I saw them. I’d only seen mountains once when we’d visited the Rockies in Colorado, but I don’t think I’d ever get used to waking up and seeing them every day.

Colin and I set out from our house in the small suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of town in silence. We’d walk together until we reached the street where we’d split up, he going east to his middle school while I continued north to Karasuno. We didn’t speak as we walked. He’d gotten out his phone to play games, but I was content to just look around, taking in the stirring households and opening businesses that we passed.

Fifteen minutes later, we reached the block where we’d go our separate ways. We hovered at the intersection.

I nudged his arm. “ _Have a good day, bud_.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” he said, not looking up. “ _You, too_.”

He continued down the sidewalk without so much as a good-bye, leaving me alone at the crosswalk. I stared after his retreating back, trying to ignore the sting of rejection. I understood the whole rebellious teenager phase—I’d witnessed Damian go through the exact same thing—but Colin and I had always been close growing up. With only three years separating us, we used to do a lot of things together. But now it was like I was just a vaguely irritating fly that kept pestering him.

It made me feel a lot lonelier than I thought it would.

As I waited for the crosswalk sign to change, I heard footsteps. I glanced over my shoulder and did a double-take when I recognized Sawamura Daichi, the boys’ volleyball captain I’d met last night.

I was relieved when he recognized me too and smiled in greeting. “Morning!”

“Hi,” I said as he came to stand beside me. “How are you?”

“Good,” he replied. “You?”

I looked after Colin, but he’d disappeared by now. “Fantastic.”

He didn’t seem to pick up on my sarcasm, only giving me a reassuring smile. “Today’s your second day, right?” When I nodded, he chuckled. “Well, I’m glad Tanaka didn’t scare you off, then.”

I smirked as the crosswalk sign changed. We kept pace as we crossed the street. “If anything, I’d be the one to scare _him_ off.”

Daichi laughed. “That’s true. Tanaka has always had an…interesting response to girls.” He shook his head. “You should see him with our manager. It’s painful to witness sometimes.”

“You have a team manager?” I didn’t know why I was surprised. It wasn’t like everything they did was _so_ different compared to the U.S.

“Shimizu Kiyoko,” he said, nodding. “She’s a third-year like Suga and me.”

I’d been right last night, then. He was a third-year. No wonder I was still slightly intimidated by him.

I chuckled as we continued toward Karasuno. The streets were thickening with students wearing the same black uniforms as us, so we had to be getting close. “I think I’d like to see that firsthand one day.”

He glanced at me, appraising. The sun glinted off his short black hair and dark brown eyes, making both appear golden. I made a mental note to text Ava again. **Walked with boys’ volleyball captain this morning. He’s cute and nice. How much do you wish you were me right now?**

Her reaction was going to be _priceless_.

“If you’re interested, you can always drop by for practice,” he said. “We typically do mornings before school starting at seven and every day after school at three-thirty.”

“I might. That sounds fun.” Karasuno appeared ahead of us, nestled in a hill and gleaming chrome and white. I internally groaned at the thought of walking uphill. “You can go on ahead if you want.” I shot my clunky shoes a dirty look. “These are just going to slow me down.”

“I don’t mind,” he assured. “I’m in no rush today.”

I had to be dreaming, right? I don’t think I’d ever met such nice boys in quick succession in my life. If this was my old high school, I’d have been ditched immediately back at the crosswalk.

We stayed in companionable silence as we trekked up the hill together. Despite the relative peace, my nerves were beginning to gnaw at me again. In only twenty-four hours, my pledge of remaining an anonymous entity had crumbled into dust. I couldn’t help shooting Daichi a wary glance as we walked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe I was just being paranoid. Karasuno wasn’t my old high school. The kids here couldn’t all be like the ones back home.

Yet the memories still lingered, fresh and raw. I still didn’t know anyone—truly knew them.

And that frightened me more than anything.

* * *

Tanaka was asleep.

The dude had looked bone-tired when I walked into homeroom. He only gave me a sleepy nod in greeting as I took my seat beside him, and within minutes, he was gone.

It was funny, especially when people wandered over and began poking fun at him and the small trail of drool across his chin. One kid uncapped a marker with a mischievous grin, but Tanaka’s poor face had been spared when the teacher chose that moment to enter the classroom.

When the bell rang for our first class, I stood and tapped Tanaka’s shoulder. “Hey.”

He snoozed on, snoring gently. I poked his cheek next. “Hey. Tanaka. Volleyball dude. Wake up. We have Lit.”

“Huh?” He came to with a grunt and looked up at me with hazy eyes. “Jude-san?”

“Yes, Tanaka-san.” I raised my eyebrows. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“S-sorry,” he said through a large yawn. He got to his feet, rubbing his eyes. “I woke up early for practice this morning.”

I handed him his bag from where I’d picked it up off the floor. “I thought you didn’t have practice this morning?”

He gave me a weird look. “How do you know that?”

I kept my eyebrows raised. “I walked with Daichi-san to school this morning?”

His expression morphed from confusion to panic. He gripped my shoulders, his face pale like I’d just announced his date for the gallows rather than casually mentioning his team captain. 

“Jude-san!” he said. “You can’t tell Daichi I was helping them!”

“Helping who?” I asked, baffled.

“Hinata and Kageyama!” If he had hair, I’m sure he would’ve been ripping it out by that point. “Suga and I are helping them prepare for the three-on-three game Saturday! They’re not allowed to be in the gym until Daichi says so!”

“Why wouldn’t they be allowed in the gym? Aren’t they on the volleyball team, too?”

He shook his head quickly. “Not yet. Daichi won’t accept their applications until they learn how to work together.”

I was so lost. I knew who Hinata was, but who was this Kageyama guy? “I’m…sorry? I won’t tell Daichi-san, I swear.”

He visibly sagged. “Thank you!”

“Right. We should, uh…get to class now.”

He nodded and set off for the door. I followed much more slowly, wondering why everyone on the volleyball team seemed absolutely bonkers.

* * *

Lunch was a weird affair.

Mizushima kindly offered me to sit with her again, and I accepted gratefully. I’d just taken out the lunch Dad packed for me when a chair scraped beside mine, and Tanaka flung himself down, his own lunch in hand.

Mizushima blinked at me before turning to Tanaka. “Hi, Tanaka-san.”

He was too busy with his lunch to look up. “Hey, Yuna-san. You mind if I sit with you guys?”

She shook her head, but her eyes were burning with questions.

I unwrapped my sandwich—ham and cheese with mustard today—and said, “Tanaka’s just making sure I don’t run off to tell his captain that he’s been secretly using the gym to help train the new first-years on the volleyball team.”

Tanaka ducked in his seat like he expected Daichi to come crashing through the windows behind us. “Jude-san! Keep your voice down!”

I rolled my eyes. “Unless Daichi has superpowers, I don’t think he’ll hear me.” I took a bite and swallowed. “And just call me Jude if you’re comfortable with that. Both of you.” I looked at Mizushima, too. “We don’t really do the honorific thing in the States.”

Mizushima nodded with a small smile. “Then call me Yuna.”

Tanaka shrugged. “Tanaka’s fine with me.”

“Great.” I smiled at both of them before reaching into my backpack and grabbing my wallet. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?”

Yuna shook her head. “I have water, thanks.”

Tanaka shoved an entire rice ball into his mouth and stood up. Through the rice, I managed to hear something that sounded like “I’ll come with you.”

“Right.” Well, at least some aspects of teenage boys never changed, no matter where you were in the world. “Come on, then.”

We headed for the vending machine I’d gone to yesterday. We sidestepped a group of girls walking inside and exited the building. In the same grassy area as before, Suga and Hinata were once again practicing with a volleyball, their faces beaded with sweat and concentration.

Tanaka swallowed with some difficulty and raised his hand. “Hey!”

The two boys halted their passes and straightened. They waved back before noticing me beside him. I made a show of covering my face when Hinata tossed the ball absentmindedly. He squeaked and immediately dropped it again.

“Working hard on your secret project?” I asked as Tanaka and I approached the two boys.

Tanaka grimaced when they looked at him, alarmed. “I didn’t tell her! Well, not directly…”

“Don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me,” I said. “I just happened to run into Daichi this morning.” I crossed my arms and appraised the boys. “So, what’s with this three-on-three game I keep hearing about?”

“It’s the first-years against each other,” Suga explained. He nudged Hinata’s shoulder. “Hinata and one of our other first-years, Kageyama, got in a fight in front of the vice, so Daichi won’t allow them into the gym or to join the team unless they can figure out how to be teammates first.” He frowned. “That was really all they had to do, but they decided to challenge Daichi to a match to be let on the team. So, now there’s a three-on-three.”

Hinata flushed. “It was Kageyama’s idea!”

Suga looked unimpressed. “Mm-hm.”

I looked at Hinata, shocked. He didn’t seem to be the type to start throwing hands. “You got in a fight?”

“Not a physical one,” Suga said hastily. “Well, kind of. Kageyama wouldn’t stop trying to get Hinata to hit the ball, and then…”

Tanaka snickered. “Hinata flubbed a receive and the ball hit the vice in the face.” He doubled over, struggling to hold back his laughter. “His toupee flew right off, too.”

“I knew it!” I punched Tanaka’s arm in excitement. “I told my mom his hair was fake, but she didn’t listen!”

“Yeah, and we’re definitely _not_ supposed to talk about it, right, Tanaka?” Suga said disapprovingly.

I shook my head. “Who the hell is this Kageyama guy, anyway?”

They all spoke at the same time.

“—Hinata’s rival from middle school—”

“—A snotty shit of a first-year—”

“—A jerk—”

“—He’s a great setter despite his attitude—”

“—Shitty brat—”

“’—Look at me, I’m the King of the Court—'” 

“Glad we cleared that up,” I muttered amidst their rambling. I put my hand on Tanaka’s shoulder before he blew a fuse. “So, vending machine?”

He glanced at my hand like it was an object of divinity. I quickly removed it. Jesus, I needed to get this dude laid.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I waved to Suga and Hinata as I walked away. “Have fun!”

I passed by a crow perched on the edge of the overhang as Tanaka hurried after me. I looked up, and it cawed at me before taking flight. One of its tail-feathers came loose and gently fluttered into my path. I paused and picked it up.

Tanaka didn’t notice that I had stopped and kept walking toward the vending machine. As the sound of Hinata and Suga passing the volleyball started up again, I let the feather drop and followed Tanaka.

* * *

**Second day: successful. You have no idea what I’d do for some weed rn.**

The text sent to Ava just as Tanaka appeared at my shoulder. On some unspoken signal, we both walked out of the classroom and into the crowded hallway together as students prepared to go home or to their after-school activities at the end of the school day.

Tanaka yawned for what had to be the millionth time that day. “Ugh. Practice is gonna kill me.”

I poked his shoulder playfully. “Not as bad as Daichi will if he finds out about your noble quest to help Hinata.”

I laughed when his eyes widened. “ _Jude_ —”

“Relax. I already told you I wouldn’t tell. Would you like me to swear on it?”

He examined the pinky I held out for him before taking it. “Swear?”

I shook our entwined pinkies with a nod. “Swear.”

We followed the stream of students out of the front doors. Tanaka paused and gestured to the gymnasium on the other side of the school. “You wanna come watch? You won’t be the only girl. Our manager is a girl.” His face took on a dreamy expression. “Shimizu Kiyoko.”

I thought back to Daichi’s offer that morning but shook my head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Later, Jude!”

He jogged toward the gym, leaving me alone on the front steps. For a wild moment, I thought about changing my mind and following him. It was a volleyball practice; how bad could it be?

My feet stayed anchored to the concrete. An image of another gym was planted firmly in my head, along with shrill laughter and the remnants of an ache in my gut that burned every time I got near its tattered edges.

I turned away and went home. 


	3. The Volleyball Club

I walked into homeroom Friday morning feeling lighter than I had all week. My first week at Karasuno High was almost done, and with a few more awkward days under my belt, I was beginning to settle into my new school and new routine comfortably.

Or so I thought.

“Jude-san,” the teacher called when I entered, waving me over to him.

I exchanged a confused look with Yuna before approaching him, wondering if I had done something wrong. I glanced down at my feet; I’d been reprimanded for forgetting to change into my hallway shoes the day before, but no, I’d remembered to change shoes upon entering the school today.

“Sensei?” I said. (Thank God for the honorifics because I still had no idea what this guy’s name was.)

He smiled in greeting and handed me a list. When I read the headline, my heart plummeted to my stomach.

“I just wanted to remind you about our extracurricular program,” he said, tapping the list. “I noticed you hadn’t signed up for a club yet. It’s highly encouraged that you do. Unless any of the academic after-hours courses appeal to you…?”

I blanched. Cram school? More work? Hard pass.

I glanced over the list. Chess club, soccer, journalism… Shit. No way was I doing any of those. Wasn’t there a nap club or something I could join? A club where I didn’t have to participate and talk to people?

“Think on it over the weekend,” he said to my distraught look. “The vice principal wants your name down for something by Monday.”

“Yes, Sensei. Thank you.”

I slouched to the back row and took my seat next to Tanaka’s empty desk. I’d learned that the volleyball player was hardly a punctual person; he was usually the last to show, just before the bell rang.

I peeked at the list again and buried my head in my arms with a silent groan.

Shit.

* * *

“It’s not so bad,” Yuna said over lunch after I’d told her and Tanaka about my plight. Tanaka had joined us again at our window seats, scarfing his food down with almost animalistic enthusiasm. I tuned him out. “Clubs are good for a lot of things. You know, like teamwork and problem-solving. It’s better than cram school, that’s for sure.”

I munched on a carrot half-heartedly. “But I’m not good at anything.”

“You don’t have to be good.” She pointed to herself with her chopsticks. “I’m part of the mathematics club, even though I’m not the best.”

“You’re still wicked smart,” I said. “The only subject you haven’t got me whipped in is English.”

“Well, I didn’t grow up in America,” she said in amusement.

I looked at the list again with a sigh. “Maybe I _should_ study more after school. My written hiragana isn’t all that great still…”

Tanaka finally quit eating enough to speak. “Just be a manager for the volleyball club!”

“You already have a manager,” I pointed out. “The gorgeous third-year, remember?”

“You can be, like, the co-manager then. Or our mascot.”

“You don’t have a mascot.”

“All right, all right, just putting it out there.” He held up his hands in defense. “Besides, being a manager would mean you’d have to actually _show_ for our practices…”

“Are you still trying to get me to come to one of your practices?” I demanded. “Why?”

“Because I like having people to cheer me on,” he said without a trace of modesty.

I stared at him. “That…actually explains so much.”

“At least come to our three-on-three match tomorrow,” he pleaded. “Just see what the gym is like and what we do. Kiyoko-san will be there, too. You can ask her anything about being a manager. Come on.”

I wavered. I was still adamant about finding a way out of this whole club-thing, but if I couldn’t…

“Okay, fine,” I said, throwing up my hands. “I’ll come. But if you suck, count me out.”

Tanaka whooped, making me cringe.

I caught Yuna’s eye. She looked torn between amusement and pity.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into, Jude?” she asked.

I sighed and elbowed Tanaka in the ribs when he wouldn’t shut up. He doubled over, coughing, while I looked back at Yuna. “Absolutely not.”

* * *

I woke up Saturday morning with the strange sensation of being on a tilted ship. I sat up, groggy, wondering why the lower half of my mattress was sagging and dragging my body along with it. _“Wha—?”_

The person perched on the edge of my bed turned at my voice, and I blinked at my older brother, Damian, as he grinned.

“ _Hey,_ ” he said casually. In my face, he waved my phone. _“What’s your passcode?”_

I tried to snatch my phone, but he was too quick for me in my half-asleep state. _“Why do you need it? Use your own phone.”_

_“It died.”_

_“So charge it?”_

He pouted. _“C’mon, please? I’ll bring you coffee.”_

 _“No way.”_ I peered at my lit-up screen. It was only a few minutes before the time I’d set my alarm for. I kicked Damian out of the way and threw off my covers. _“I have to get up, anyway.”_

_“For what?”_ he said as he stood. _“It’s Saturday morning!”_

 _“Then why are_ you _up?”_ I asked as I began to rifle through my clothes boxes. What was I even supposed to wear to a volleyball match that I would only be spectating? Did I have to dress to impress the manager? I dug through my clothes with more urgency. _“You’re never up before the sun.”_ I paused and glanced back at him. _“Did you even go to sleep last night?”_

The sheepish look he gave me told me all I needed to know. I rolled my eyes and went back to searching for an outfit.

_“Jude, c’mon. Please?”_ he whined.

I rolled my eyes again. I swear our ages were reversed. How was he nineteen and still a baby?

_“Okay, fine,”_ I snapped. _“Seven-eight-two-seven. One minute, and then you need to get out so I can get ready.”_

 _“Thank you,”_ he sang as he entered the passcode. I tried not to be paranoid as he tapped away on my screen, but it was hard. He spoke to me without looking. _“So, what are you getting ready for?”_

I sighed. _“I honestly have no idea.”_ I found a pair of jeans and deliberated. Were jeans too weird to wear to a gym? But I’d look more stupid if I wore a tracksuit or something, right? I frowned, keeping the jeans out just in case. _“Apparently, there’s like an unspoken rule about being in clubs at school. I was invited to scope out the boys’ volleyball club and become a manager for them. They’re having a three-on-three match today, and during that, I get to meet the current manager.”_

He paused in his tapping and looked up. _“You? Managing a volleyball team?”_ I scowled when he laughed. _“Oh, that’s good. Can I come with you to watch?”_

_“No.”_

_“Ugh. You’re no fun.”_

I yanked out one of my favorite sweatshirts, a navy-blue color that was way too big for me, but would protect me nicely from the morning chill. But what if I got hot in the gym? I should probably wear something under it, then. But what…?

_“Why would you want to come, anyway?”_ I asked Damian. _“Shouldn’t you be, like, going to bed?”_

He shrugged, switching my screen off. _“I’m bored and I’m not even tired.”_

 _“You’re so weird, dude.”_ I grabbed a white tank top and straightened. _“Be ready in thirty or I’m leaving without you.”_

 _“Ayy!”_ He tossed me my phone back. I barely caught it.

I squinted at it, suspicious. _“What did you do?”_

_“I had to text myself something, so I’d remember it when my phone was charged.”_

Still skeptical, I unlocked my phone and went to my messages. Sure enough, Damian was my most recent contact. I opened the text chain only to read the word **Yakisoba.**

I stared, baffled. _“You snuck into my room so you could text yourself ‘yakisoba?’”_

He stared back with a tiny pout. _“I didn’t want to forget that I wanted a yakisoba bun later.”_

_“Damian?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Get the fuck out.”_

He only laughed and walked off with a wave. _“See you in thirty!”_

* * *

In the end, I went with a pair of athletic leggings buried at the bottom of one of my unpacked boxes, the white tank top, and the navy sweatshirt over it all. I didn’t care so much about my shoes since I wouldn’t be permitted to wear them inside the gym, anyway, but I at least matched my socks to give an impression of sensibility.

I told myself I wouldn’t wear makeup, but I ended up psyching myself out at the last minute, so I dabbed some on and fixed the blunt edges of my hair. I didn’t give a shit about the boys, but for some reason, I felt oddly pressured to impress this third-year girl that was their manager. Maybe it was because of the way Tanaka had spoken of her in such a reverent tone, or maybe it was because I was an anxious bundle of nerves held together by skin and bone, but I still felt the need to be _liked_.

After adjusting my sweatshirt for about the eightieth time, I went downstairs and met Damian in the kitchen, where he was speaking with Mom and Baba in Japanese.

“There you are,” Mom said with a bright but tired smile. Even though it was the weekend, and she didn’t have to work, I was still amazed that she was up so early. It was like she had copied Damian and hadn’t gone to bed the night before. “Damian said you two are going to watch a volleyball game at Karasuno?”

“Just a three-on-three between the team,” I said after kissing Baba’s cheeks and accepting her hug. “They’ve, uh, asked me to be a manager. So I’m kind of interviewing the current manager while she interviews me, or something like that. I don’t know yet. We’ll see. I might not even want to join.”

I was rambling now, much to the amusement of my family. I shut my mouth quickly and hid my hands in my pockets.

“Well, have fun,” Mom said, smiling in a way that was far too reminiscent of Damian. “Just be home in time for dinner tonight.”

Damian and I nodded, saying our good-byes to Mom and Baba before putting on our shoes and leaving the house. The sun was up, but tendrils of sleep still clung to me as Damian followed me to Karasuno. I stifled a yawn as we crossed the street into town.

Damian didn’t seem tired at all, even though he’d claimed to pull an all-nighter. He walked beside me, alert and even perky, keeping pace with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black windbreaker, unzipped to show his plain black shirt and the silver chain he always wore around his neck.

Out of the three of us, Damian looked the most like our mom, but he was the only one to have inherited our dad’s blue eyes. Disturbingly, Ava had informed me last year that my older brother had entered the territory of _hot_ , but I guess I could see it if I squinted really hard and forgot I had any blood relation to him. To go with his pretty blue eyes, he also had a strong face with a sharp jawline, an unfairly straight nose, and cheekbones and lashes I had contemplated killing him for. I wondered what we looked like walking next to each other, because it was certainly hard to tell that we were siblings. The thought made me scowl.

Damian rubbed the spot in between my eyebrows with a finger that I batted away. _“Uh-oh. Jude’s thinking. I can see that one brain cell working overtime—”_

 _“You are so annoying,”_ I huffed.

He grinned. _“So send me home.”_

We both knew I wouldn’t, considering the shit-eating look on his face. I was anxious, and having someone familiar with me would keep me from spiraling into panic once I entered that gym. Not for the first time, nor the last, I cursed my anxiety.

_“I’m just nervous, okay?”_ I snapped.

He shot me a look, half-patronizing and half-sympathetic, that made my stomach churn. I kept my head down and my eyes on my feet.

_“There’s nothing to be nervous about,”_ he said. _“They’re a bunch of rowdy kids, and so are you.”_ He bumped my shoulder with his. _“Besides, you have me.”_

How easy it was for him to say that, and how envious I was over it. Damian had always been popular; it was like everything he did, he did perfectly. He was never ruffled over anything, and he oozed confidence with every breath.

He dropped his voice lower as we passed an older couple walking in the other direction, though he didn’t need to. Even if we were speaking in Japanese, they’d have no idea what we were talking about.

_“Jude,”_ he said, _“Carsen and those other kids aren’t here anymore. There’s nothing to worry about.”_

My throat burned as we reached the bottom of the hill where Karasuno squatted above us.

_“Yeah,”_ I choked out. _“I know.”_ After a deep breath and a discreet sniff, I squared my shoulders. _“All right, whatever. I can do this. Let’s go.”_

We climbed the hill and headed for the gymnasiums that sat behind the main school building, all chrome and concrete in the morning sun. Tanaka had told me the boys’ volleyball club usually practiced in Gymnasium 2, so I found the sign for it and walked over, Damian on my heels, taking everything in.

_“This is your high school?”_ he said.

_“Obviously.”_

He ignored my tone, nodding. _“It’s nice. Certainly not anything like Jefferson…”_

I unconsciously made a face at the mention of our old high school. _“Thank God for that.”_

We approached Gym 2 and toed off our shoes, sliding them into the cubbies propped next to the open doors. A green net to keep out bugs hung over the entrance, and beyond, I could hear the murmur of voices and the solid thuds of volleyballs hitting the floor. Judging by the dozen or so shoes in the cubbies already, Damian and I were the last to arrive, but it was still fifteen minutes before Tanaka had told me to be here. I took another deep breath before entering the gym, Damian right behind me.

“JUDE!”

Tanaka’s yell smothered every other sound as the volleyball player himself rushed over to me, his face lit up in excitement. It put me at ease despite his overbearing attitude; at least someone wanted me here, even if I didn’t necessarily want to be here myself.

“Hi, Tanaka.” I gestured to Damian. “This is my older brother, Damian. Sorry for bringing someone, but…”

“Hey, no worries,” Tanaka said. He shared a rather bro handshake with my brother. “Tanaka. Nice to meet you. Are you in high school, too?”

“Nah,” Damian said, leaning back on his heels. “I graduated last year, but I’m studying here to get into a Japanese university.”

“Oh, nice. My sister’s at university, and…”

I let the two of them talk while I studied the situation. A dozen boys of varying heights and class-years were spread throughout the gym, some of them warming up with volleyballs or stretches, or otherwise milling around. There was one other girl, and I guessed she was the manager as she walked around in a white-and-purple tracksuit picking up stray balls, her black hair loose and shining under the fluorescent lights. She moved efficiently, without hesitation, and seemed to know what she was doing. I gulped.

“Oh, Jude!” Tanaka said, bringing me back to the conversation. “Come here. I have a surprise for you.”

“Uh, what?” I sputtered as he led me to the opposite side of the gym. I tried to catch Damian’s eye, but he was already walking toward another cluster of volleyball players. Damn him! “What surprise?”

Tanaka didn’t answer, instead presenting me with a flourish to a group of four boys like I was some exotic animal. I recognized Hinata and thought with relief that it was nothing too bad until Tanaka cleared his throat.

“First-years,” he said in a solemn tone that sounded like it belonged more in a shrine rather than a high school gym. “This is Jude. Now, just like I said—”

Out of the four boys, Hinata was the only one who spoke with any enthusiasm as they all intoned, “Hello, Jude-senpai.”

I stared. Hinata and his bright orange hair beamed. He wore a white T-shirt and black shorts that must have been their practice clothes, his kneepads already on. Next to the other three boys, he looked like a much younger kid; all of them had at least six inches or more on him, which meant that I had to crane my head back if I wanted to see their faces, since Hinata and I stood at about the same height.

I wondered which one was Kageyama as I got a good look at the other boys. If these four were the first-years, like Tanaka had said, then he must be one of them. I immediately ruled out the kid with the freckles and gray-green hair. He was tall, sure, but hardly intimidating. Behind Hinata, he had been the only one to greet me with a shy smile. Which left Moody Boy and Stick Boy.

Moody Boy was close to six feet, with black hair that fell across his forehead and stopped short of his dark blue eyes. There was nothing sinister about him, as far as I could tell, but he definitely seemed a bit awkward underneath his brooding expression. Meanwhile, Stick Boy was even taller—well past six feet. He truly reminded me of a stick with blond hair and glasses since he was so tall and gangly. I don’t know why, but he seemed like the type to egg on someone like Hinata. I decided he was Kageyama as I turned to Tanaka, incredulous.

“’Senpai?’” I echoed, my eyebrows raised. I glanced back at the first-years. “What’d you bribe them with to get them to agree to _that_?”

Tanaka cringed. “Chinese buns for a whole week?”

I shook my head and spoke to the first-years. “Ignore him. You really don’t have to call me senpai, but thanks.”

Hinata seemed put-out while the others looked relieved.

“I don’t mind,” he said.

Well, that was that. Hinata was now my child.

I wanted to hug that kid, but before I could say anything more, Daichi’s voice rang out behind us.

“All right! Let’s get started!”

The first-years hustled away. Hinata gave me an enthusiastic wave before practically skipping toward the court. Tanaka bumped his shoulder against mine.

“See?” he said. “Hinata already likes you!”

I ignored him. “Shouldn’t you be out there?”

He grinned as he began to jog to the court. “Don’t forget to cheer me on!”

I rolled my eyes and made my way back toward Damian. He stood with a group of three boys I didn’t recognize and Suga. I smiled when I caught Suga’s eye.

“Jude!” he said. “Glad you could make it.”

“You can thank Tanaka for that,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully.

Suga grinned. “I think Tanaka’s just excited that you actually showed. He was bragging about getting us a new manager last night, but he seemed worried this morning before you arrived.”

I snorted. That definitely sounded like Tanaka. “Yeah, well…”

“Hello. Are you Jude-san?”

I turned at the soft voice and honestly felt my knees go a little weak. The manager Tanaka called Kiyoko stood behind me, smiling warmly. Oh, God. She was even more beautiful up close. I couldn’t even describe her. Everything about her just screamed _perfection_. The glossy black hair, the stormy gray eyes behind thin wire-framed glasses, the blemish-free skin. Even the distinct mole on the lower left side of her chin only served to add to her beauty. I immediately took back everything I said about Tanaka’s weird infatuation with this girl. I understood it now. I had seen the light.

She was waiting for me to say something. I wondered if my voice came out raspy when I said, “Y-yes. Hi.”

She smiled again, and it was like the first time ever seeing the sun. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Shimizu Kiyoko, the manager for the volleyball club. Tanaka said you were also interested in managing for the team?”

Suga laughed while I stood, speechless.

“I think Tanaka actually forced it upon her against her will than the other way around,” he said.

Suga’s voice broke whatever trance I had gone into, and I smiled sheepishly. “I just needed to join a club, really. Tanaka suggested I come see what everything was about and speak to you first.”

Shimizu nodded. “Of course. We can speak while the game is going on.” She turned to the group of boys gathered with Suga. They all stared at her in complete adoration. Even Damian seemed a little starstruck, the creep. I’d kick his ass for that later. “Suga-san, Ennoshita-san, you have the scoreboard covered, right?”

Suga shot her a thumbs-up. A boy with dark hair and a round face nodded. “We got it, Shimizu-san.”

“Narita-san, do you mind being the referee for a bit while I talk to Jude?”

Another boy with a shaved head like Tanaka’s stood straighter. “On it, Shimizu-san.”

I looked at Damian. “Don’t do anything stupid, please?”

My brother frowned, offended. “Rude.”

I stuck out my tongue and mocked him. _“Rude.”_

“Very mature.”

In English, I said, _“Bite me.”_

_“I will shit on your bed.”_

I laughed. So did he. Everyone else just looked utterly perplexed, which only made it funnier. I waved to Damian as I followed Shimizu farther down the court. My brother and I had a strange—often extremely so—relationship, but I thought it suited us. Our sense of humor was too alike, so we found the same things funny. It was probably weird to everyone else, but I loved it. (When he wasn’t being an obnoxious little shit, that is.)

Shimizu glanced at me curiously as we walked. “Tanaka mentioned you were from the United States?”

I nodded, shoving my hands into my sweatshirt pockets. “California born and raised.”

“Oh, nice! I’ve always wanted to go there. Just to see what it was like, you know?”

“It’s gorgeous,” I said. “We lived in the Bay Area. It was beautiful.”

“Like that one place? San Francisco?”

“Close. I grew up in San Jose, which wasn’t that far, but I’ve been to San Francisco a lot. It was really neat. Especially seeing all those old Victorian houses and the Golden Gate bridge and everything.”

“That does sound neat,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. We looked out at the court. On our side of the net was Tanaka, Hinata, and Moody Boy. Daichi, Freckles, and the Stick Boy I figured was Kageyama stood on the other. I didn’t know what was happening, but Tanaka and Hinata seemed fired up over something. On the other side of the net, Stick Boy Kageyama was smirking. I now understood what everyone meant about him. “Well, before the game begins, do you know much about volleyball?”

“Only the basics,” I said. “You know, like what the positions are and the rules and stuff. My school was big on it, and there was always beach or sand volleyball going on where I grew up. It was kind of hard not to know anything about it.”

“Well, that’s good!” she said. “As managers, we don’t play, of course, but sometimes we’ll be asked to referee a practice match or something, so it’s good to know the basics. But our primary focus is the team; making sure they have access to towels and water bottles when they need them, knowing some baseline first-aid in case there’s a minor injury, and just providing morale when it’s needed. We also travel with them to away games and get sanctioned time off from school for that, which isn’t a bad perk.”

My eyebrows shot up. Excused time off from school? _Now_ we were speaking my language.

Shimizu didn’t miss my look. She giggled. Even her _laugh_ was perfect. Jesus.

“That’s usually one of my selling points when I try to recruit,” she said. “It gets some attention.”

“How come it’s just you, then?” I asked. “I mean, not to be rude…”

She sighed. “No, no, I get what you’re asking.” Her hair fell forward again, and she brushed it back behind her ear once more. “You see, Karasuno’s volleyball team used to be considered a powerhouse—a few years ago, they even went all the way to Nationals.”

I nodded. I remembered most of this stuff. She continued.

“A lot of things happened since then, but all of it contributed to —I guess you could say the decline? —of the team. Karasuno hasn’t been back to Nationals since, and people didn’t really want to support a team that didn’t win as much.”

She trailed off, looking troubled. I couldn’t blame her. All of that sounded…harsh.

I glanced back at the court just as the whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. As the ball began flying back-and-forth over the net, I tried to shake the feeling creeping up on me. It wasn’t quite pity, exactly, but more like…empathy. I _felt_ for these guys, and for Shimizu. Imagining people turning their backs on them because they weren’t champions anymore was terrible. It made my stomach bubble with fury on their behalf. It was messed up.

“Are you okay?” Shimizu asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” I said offhandedly. “Why?”

“You just have kind of a strange look on your face. Like you’re going to be sick. Are you sure that you’re all right?”

“Oh, yeah.” I waved her off. “I’m fine, just— _aannddd_ Tanaka’s taking his shirt off.”

“What?”

She spun toward the court, where Tanaka had shed his sweatshirt and was now crowing victory after having hit a spike past Stick Boy’s block. The other boys complained and shouted at him to stop stripping and put his clothes back on, but Tanaka just laughed. I shook my head in amazement; the dude was certainly something else.

Shimizu cleared her throat beside me. She stared off at a different part of the court while Tanaka finally put his sweatshirt back on, but her cheeks looked faintly pink. I stored that information away for later as she said, “I’m sure you’ve noticed already if you’re in class with him, but Tanaka-san tends to be…a bit overexcited. They all do, sometimes. But their hearts are in the right place, I promise.”

I didn’t doubt that. For all their eccentricities, the volleyball boys I’d met already all seemed like good guys. Except for maybe Stick Boy Kageyama and that perpetual frown of his.

“The first-years, too,” she added quickly when I didn’t say anything. “I mean, Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun have their differences, but for the most part, they seem to be working together well today.”

I frowned. How were they working well together if they were on opposite sides of the net? But I guess maybe just them not fighting or yelling at each other was an improvement after what Tanaka and Suga had told me about them.

“Kageyama seems to be good at blocking, at least,” I said after the blond boy stopped one of Tanaka’s hits. Tanaka seethed before rallying himself for another attack. “I guess the height helps with that.”

Shimizu nodded. “He’s not as tall as Tsukishima-kun, but he definitely isn’t on the short side, either.”

“Wait, what?” Stick Boy Kageyama was the tallest boy in the gym by far—he was even taller than Damian, and he wasn’t average height. “Who’s Tsukishima? Is he not here?”

She gave me a weird look. “Tsukishima is the blond boy playing on Daichi-san’s team.”

I did a double-take. “Huh? That’s not Kageyama?”

“No. Kageyama is the black-haired boy playing on Hinata-kun and Tanaka-san’s team.”

I whipped my head between the two boys. Stick Boy wasn’t Kageyama? Moody Boy was?

_Well, I’ll be damned,_ I thought. I shook my head. “Wow. I thought for sure that Tsukishima kid was the one Hinata would’ve fought with. He just looks like the kind of guy to press your buttons.”

Shimizu laughed. “Well, you aren’t wrong. Tsukishima-kun doesn’t get along with Hinata-kun or Kageyama-kun, either. The only one he really tolerates so far is Yamaguchi-kun—the other player on Daichi-san’s team—but I think that’s because they were already friends before coming here.”

I watched the black-haired boy—the _real_ Kageyama—pick up the volleyball and go to the back of the court to serve. I still tried to wrap my head around him being the one to fight with Hinata. He looked moody, for sure, but while he prepared to serve, I thought he just looked more concentrated anything.

He tossed the ball in the air and jumped—a jump-serve, and a graceful one at that. The ball soared, fast and accurate, over the net, and I expected a service ace until Daichi appeared out of nowhere and received it perfectly. The ball went up, the Stick Boy I now knew as Tsukishima set it, and his friend Yamaguchi spiked it. Tanaka’s team flubbed the receive, and Daichi’s team earned a point.

It all happened in the span of less than a minute. I hadn’t really been paying attention to the game while talking to Shimizu, but watching that last bit sent a shock to my fingers and toes. It reminded me of when our family used to drive to Capitola Beach and watch all the sand tournaments between the college teams. I’d always been fascinated and impressed by the coordination and athleticism they had. Seeing the boys in front of me now brought me back to that beach for a brief moment, and a wave of homesickness washed over me.

I glanced over at Damian. He caught my eye and sent me a half-smile that told me he, too, was remembering those days. I quirked my lips back at him before Shimizu touched my elbow.

“Here,” she said as the boys began to argue on the court. I didn’t know what was happening, but I thought I heard the word “King” tossed around a few times as I followed Shimizu to the doors. “We can speak more out here while they…do whatever they’re doing.”

She took off her gym shoes before stepping outside. She didn’t bother putting on her outdoor shoes, so I didn’t grab mine out of the cubbies, either. Instead, she sat down on one of the concrete steps leading to the doors. I copied her and settled myself down beside her.

After a few moments of silence passed, I turned back to her. “So, do you like it?” I elaborated at her questioning look. “Being a manager?”

“Yes,” she said after a brief pause. “The boys can often be loud and dysfunctional” —a smile tugged at her lips— “as you’ve seen already, but they’re determined and a team above all.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest. “I’d love to see them win again and go all the way to Nationals.”

I studied the side of her face. She was soft-spoken, but the pride and longing in her voice were hard to miss. I thought about Tanaka and the way he roared whenever he got a spike through a block, of Hinata and Suga practicing in the courtyard, of Daichi and the way his normally calm and collected demeanor turned into fire whenever he stepped on the court. They were something special, this volleyball club, and more and more, I found myself yearning to be a part of it. 

I braced myself for the final question. “Shimizu-san?”

She hummed and turned to face me again. I bit my lip and looked out at the school and the rolling hills beyond. A crow fluttered by, its black wings glinting gold when they caught the sun.

“If I were to join the club,” I said slowly, “would you be all right with that?” I met her eyes. “You’ve been the sole manager for a while. I don’t want to encroach on that, I guess. And I don’t care how much Tanaka begs me. I won’t join unless you’re a hundred-percent all right with it.”

She looked surprised. “Why would I not be all right with it? The others like you. And you seem like a good person, Jude-san.”

My face burned. “Thank you. I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay with potentially having a partner.”

She laughed. “I was honestly waiting for the day I wouldn’t have to be the only girl anymore.” She climbed back to her feet and offered me a hand up. “If you really want to join, then I’ll be here to welcome you, Jude-san.”

I accepted her hand and stood. She gave me one last smile before reentering the gym.

This time, I didn’t hesitate to follow. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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